“It was this, or I’d have been even later. It’s fine. Lucas won’t care,” I say, and she scoffs playfully. We both know damn well that Lucas will notice and not approve.
“Do me a favour, will you?” Mum asks, snapping me back to attention.
Oh God, what now?
I raise an eyebrow, bracing for her request.
“Go and find Lucas and April. More guests have arrived, and I have no idea where they’ve gone. I’m sure people are looking for them,” she says.
I let out a long breath, nodding before stepping around her and heading straight for the stairs. Ducking my head through doorways, I search the rooms for the happy couple. I reach their bedroom and stop mid step, noticing their bathroom door is closed. Rolling my eyes, I knock.
“Luc? Mum sent me to check on you. Is everything okay? Have you seen April?” I ask.
I hear gasps and hushed whispers.
“James? Is that you? Give me a second,” Lucas replies.
For fuck’s sake.
I know exactly who’s in there. And I’m sure I can guess exactly what they’re doing.
I lean against the door-frame just as the door swings open, revealing the newly engaged pair, both looking rather sheepish. I can’t help but smirk, knowing I’ve caught them in the act. I reach into my pocket, pulling out my guitar pick to nibble on. Old habit I can’t seem to kick.
My gaze darts from Lucas to April, who is staring intently at the floor, heat searing her cheeks. “You couldn’t wait until the party ended?” I ask, fixing Lucas with an amused look.
“You couldn’t put on a suit?”
I pluck the pick from my teeth, roll my eyes, and blow out a breath. “Give me a break, Luc. I came straight from practice. This is what I’m comfortable in. We have that audition coming up and I lost track of time, so I came straight here. Suits areyourthing, not mine.”
“Whatever, the Golden Child does what he wants. Always has,” Lucas replies in a condescending tone.
His use of theGolden Childdoesn’t escape me, but I know it’s his favourite dig, thrown at me because of my close bond with my parents—particularly Mum. My closeness with Mum has nothing to do with favouritism, but he’ll use anything to try to knock me down and make himself feel better. I shake it off, ignoring his jab, as April finally meets my gaze and offers me an awkward wave.
“Hey, James,” she says in a soft, shy voice.
My brow creases. “Hey, April.”
It’s only now that I have the chance to take in what she’s wearing. Her off-the-shoulder dress reveals smooth, creamy skin, with a pink flush spreading from her collarbones to her neck. Her chest rises and falls as if she’s just caught her breath. And even though she’s wearing minimal make-up—she’s never needed much—her blush stands out.
I’m not sure if it’s the colour in her cheeks, the glow in her eyes, or the way her hair falls in untamed waves over her naked shoulders, but it’s like I’m seeing her for the first time.
She’s radiant, undeniably. And it’s obvious—she’s just come. But the fact that it was mybrotherwho brought her to this state sends a sharp, unexpected pang through me.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I’ve never looked at April like this.
Because I can’t.
Because Ishouldn’t.
Not until now.
Sure, I’ve always known she’s a beautiful woman. But right now? She’s superb. And I can’t look away.
Shaking off the thought, I tuck my pick back into my pocket. Unsure of what else to say, my brain supplies the most idiotic line possible: “Your mascara’s smudged.”
Before she can respond, I step back, turn on my heel, and rejoin the party.
